Sam: Well, I guess I've never... I've never looked into your eyes.
Diane: Something wrong with them?
Sam: No. I just don't think I've ever seen eyes that color before. Matter of fact, I don't think I've ever seen that color before. Yes, I have. Yes, I have.
Diane: Where?
Sam: I was, uh... I was on a ski weekend up at Stowe. I was coming in late one day, last person off the slope as the sun had just gone down. And the sky became this incredible color. I usually don't notice things like that, and I found myself kind of walking around in the cold, hoping that it wouldn't change, wishing that I had somebody there to share it with. Afterwards, I tried to convince myself that I'd imagined that color, that I hadn't really seen it, that nothing on this earth could be that beautiful. Now I see I was wrong. [Diane is silent] Wouldn't work, huh?
Diane: What?
Sam: An intelligent woman would see right through that.
Diane: Oh. Oh! In a minute.
Sam: Damn. [Diane downs a shot]